Wednesday, 27 November 2013

For those that have not read the background story or followed my project, the miniatures that I've spent so long making and developing are designed to represent the first two opposing sides for the ruleset and world setting that I've been working on for that past year or so, the eponymous "Steam and Aether".

For a tabletop wargame I've always wanted a set of rules that are simple to learn yet aren't boring or too generic and so that's what I've set out to create. The game will be powered by just a couple of easy mechanics allowing you to focus on play and narrative. I'm currently playtesting the rules but I hope to release a "beta" version within 6 months for anyone interested. Mark Latham will be on board to help me develop the rules further and set them out the way a veteran games developer knows best. I intend to make the rules freely available in PDF form to everyone once they're ready and have an online "living rulebook" incorporating player feedback where suitable. I'm not going to give much more away at the moment but stay tuned, I'll be keeping you all up to date.

Thursday, 21 November 2013

Now that 99% of the Meridian Miniatures KS is done with and shipped I've been able to sit down and continue work on the Steam & Aether ruleset, miniatures and setting again.

For those of you that don't know, I work as a full time miniatures sculptor so I have to try to balance my schedule to include personal work alongside the bread as butter of paid commissions. Over the last couple of days I've made time to rebase the painted figures that I used to promote the Meridian Miniatures KS.

The Steam and Aether setting wasn't fully set in stone when I painted them so I stuck with my default basing scheme. I've chosen to refinish the bases to represent the post catastrophe landscape of industrial France. I've simply removed the grass tufts and added (overscaled) miniature bricks and tiny cogs (both from eBay) with some pieces of card create nice bits of loose paving. This all received a coat of dark grey plus a black wash, then a little brass and brick red to pick out the details. Next came a light grey drybrush plus some orange on the bricks and the odd patch of ground. A little chestnut ink was added to shade the brass. I hope you'll agree that they've turned out to be very effective and evocative of the setting for relatively quick jobs.

The next sets that get painted will be experiments with speed painting, that won't be for a little while though I'm afraid. Plenty more to share with you in the meantime though.

Sunday, 20 October 2013

The French scientists of the
Consulate of Peace spent many months ensconced within the extraterrestrial
installation, deep beneath the Jura Mountains.
There they happened across greatest discovery in human history, the discovery
that would change the world forever: Terrestrial Aether.

The
truth behind Terrestrial Aether was never revealed to the world. Only the
products of French ingenuity and the marvels that this new element could make
possible stood testament to the discovery. And yet the scientists laboured on,
determined to discover how such a wondrous material could have come to be. After
deciphering knowledge from the complex’s many libraries and glowing logic
engines, the greatest minds in France
were awed to learn that there were many dimensions in existence, and the Aether
was the very stuff that bound them together. All space and time exists by
virtue of the Aether, and all matter and energy is created and conducted
through it.

Beyond
the veil of our own reality, manifold dimensions lie. Some are like our own;
some are utterly alien—planes of scintillating light and Stygian darkness, and
everything in-between. And with knowledge of the Aether, distilled into its
purest form, mankind could conceivably traverse the planes of reality, and even
cross the cold void of space to worlds far beyond our own. And yet in these
myriad places, unimaginable forms of matter and life exist. Alien intelligences
lurk at the fringes of reality, waiting hungrily for the chance to cross into
our world, were they only given the means to traverse the Aether…

Saturday, 19 October 2013

When the Aether storms
miraculously calmed, both Prussia
and Great Britain dispatched
science expeditions to assess the safety of France. They found that, as long as
precautions were taken against noxious fumes and strange atmospheres, it would
be possible to explore the desolate country. Early indications were that many
of the ruins of the French towns, not to mention the great industrial
complexes, were ripe for exploration, and would certainly yield a great bounty
in unique artefacts and
advanced technology.

Former cities house untold
technology, much of which was never released to the outside world. The vast
industrial plazas that once covered endless acres of land lie abandoned, ruined
factories brim with wares, engines of manufacture lie unguarded, and secret
caches of Aetheric materials surely wait to be discovered. Even
Louis-Napoleon’s super-weapons now sit dormant along France’s borders, standing silent
sentry against innumerable plunderers. Perhaps, it was argued, the source of
the Terrestrial Aether discovered by the French all those years ago still
existed. If it did, then perhaps it could be made safe, and the scientists of
the age could carve success from the failure of the Consulate. Whoever achieved
such a feat would be wealthy beyond measure and, if the rumours of
Terrestrial Aether’s other properties were to be believed, practically
immortal.

And yet the dangers of exploring the mist-shrouded ruins
of France
were immeasurable. Dangerous storms are like to flare up without warning, with
winds that can strip flesh from bones and lightning bolts capable of cutting
through entire companies of men. Some regions of France remain entirely inaccessible
by land, sea or air, as they seem engulfed permanently by conflagrations of
multi-coloured
fire. Sometimes, towns and landmarks that had been wiped from the map flicker
into existence, offering up their secrets for a tantalisingly short space of time
before blinking out of reality once more, taking with it anyone unfortunate
enough to be nearby. What befalls such unlucky individuals is unknown, but none
have ever been seen again. Worse still, rumours persist of strange beings,
terrifying to behold, appearing as if from nowhere, sometimes with messages for travellers, and
sometimes with murderous intent. There are places where time and space are
damaged beyond repair—places where time runs backwards, or more slowly, or even
stands still; where a
traveller might find himself aged twenty years in the blink
of an eye, or else find himself at his destination in moments, whilst his
companions have all aged several years, or are long dead.

Drawn together by the dimensional flux, even more strange
elements have coalesced from the realms beyond, and melded with Terrestrial Aether
into myriad strange and exotic materials. Boulders and sometimes whole villages
are left lighter than air, gently drifting dozens of feet from the ground;
forests of bizarre, glowing crystalline trees have sprung up across the
wasteland, and rich seams of extraterrestrial minerals run through the rocky
mountain ranges.

Some ‘survivors’ of the Aether catastrophe have become
something less than human—hideous, walking corpses, shambling revenants of
humanity whose grotesque forms have become hosts to inter-dimensional
parasites. Dead bodies have been found with crudely-written decrees pinned to
them, decrees apparently written by King Charles X. Could it be that something
still stirs in the ruins of Paris, the city worst affected by the catastrophe?
Could it be that Paris
is ruled over still, by the king of the revenants?

Other
beings, strange and ravening, also wander the land. From which hellish dimension
they came, no one can be sure, but their nightmarish forms are myriad. Whilst
some keep to specific regions, perhaps bound by particular conditions or drawn
to exotic alien minerals, others drift across the wasteland, searching for
living things on which to feed.

But not everyone in France is dead or cursed. Some
natives live still, in the few remaining rural settlements, or makeshift
communes in the hill country. From all walks of life, these dispossessed people
have banded together, fearful of strangers and rightly so. What remains of the
French militia does its best to look after these pockets of civilisation,
but it has its work cut out. Some groups of soldiers have long since forsaken hope, and operate as
pirates and rogues, their knowledge of the harsh wasteland unsurpassed. Legends
are whispered by the ragged denizens of the communes that Napoleon III still
lives, and fights against revenants, murderous rebels and invading foreigners
alike. They whisper that he has somehow remained untouched by the catastrophe;
the only man in France
to remain pure when all around him has been corrupted. Whatever the truth of
the matter, Louis-Napoleon has become a folk hero, his stories told around
campfires at night to ward off evil.

The Race for Supremacy

With so many horrors, and with France still very much in a state
of Aetheric flux, it seems foolhardy for any nation to contemplate expeditions
into the wasteland. And yet the Prussian central ministry and the Royal
Geographical Society of Britain have put together several expeditionary forces
to foray ever deeper into old French territory. And they are not alone—several
of Britain’s more partisan
regiments have disobeyed orders and entered France in search of riches.
Mercenary warbands from rival nations delve into the wasteland unaided. And all
this, for the merest opportunity of fame, fortune and the advancement of
science beyond measure.

These
expeditionary forces must face all the dangers of the wasteland, and doubtless
other, as-yet-undiscovered terrors from alien dimensions. Until more of France
has been explored, neither side dares launch a full-scale military invasion,
and so instead smaller forces push ever deeper into the chaotic realm in search
of untold treasure.

Britain’s
forces are primarily well-organised expeditions, led by the greatest explorers
of the age and supported by well-drilled elite Yeomanry. Regimental
expeditions, however, tend to be less well prepared, and are usually dispatched
at the whim of a mercurial regimental commander whose only interest is
garnering more glory for his regiment. These missions are likely to change at
the drop of a hat, as officers in the field become greedy for more personal
wealth, filled with battle lust, or lose their nerve entirely in the face of
extraterrestrial horrors. Some British regiments are even said to be in the pay
of the exiled French Duke, Louis Antoine, who pledges his assistance to any
force that promises to preserve French wealth and national treasures, so that
one day he may restore his kingdom and sit the throne that is rightfully his.

The
Prussian states send out legions of border forces into its ravaged western
territories daily, primarily in the hope that, once secure, it can be restored
to its former glory. Their troops are patriotic and well-drilled, after two
decades of border patrols, but they are also weary of the bureaucracy from the
capital, and the endless politicking of their leaders. Those that press on into
France do so under orders
from their regional controllers, and often find themselves competing with
regiments from other regions of Prussia.
They are almost always burdened by over-complicated chains of command, manifold
objectives, and secondary targets which much be achieved meticulously, all the
while recording their every manoeuvre for the central ministry.

Added
to this, private companies from both sides often set out to stake their own
share of the wealth. From Britain,
individual explorers, scientists and trading companies often venture into the
wasteland, backed by foreign mercenaries, hired muscle or bribed soldiery. Only
the most determined and well-prepared get past the first few days of perilous
exploring, but those who do return so laden down with riches that they always
inspire another group to have a go. Likewise, the civil institutions of Prussia
form coalitions of brave, foolhardy and disenfranchised militia to delve into
the wastes and bring back what treasure they can find. Many towns put together
their own private expeditions, waving official papers signed by backwater local
politicians as a passport to adventure. Scientific institutes pool their
resources to pay off the Prussian border guards, sending in small teams to
study the French ruins, determined not to let the Royal Society of Britain beat
them in the race to scientific discovery.

Even
less prominent nations have found their way into France—small forces of Spanish
guerrillas seeking wealth to rebuild their country; Nordic and Mediterranean
nations risking their tiny fleets over the still-treacherous seas; and even Russian
and American mercenaries have been found in the wastes, usually at death’s door
due to their distinct lack of Aether technology.

Only
the bravest of the explorers ever survives long enough to reach the interior of
the nation. Those that meet inevitably come into conflict. The stakes are too
high for either Prussia or Britain to contemplate sharing the spoils and
so, in the no-man’s land that is France, all treaties are set aside
and hostilities are commonplace. Of course, it is no place for the unwary
commander. Entire regiments can appear as if from nowhere, falling upon their
enemies out of thin air; hordes of shambling revenants can suddenly stumble
from the buildings of a seemingly deserted settlement; and armed exploratory
forces will stop at nothing to stalk a rival who has the relics that they seek.
Whatever the dangers, everything is at stake for the side willing to gamble; a
whole nation lies under a pall of chaos, its secrets waiting to be revealed.

Friday, 18 October 2013

The cosmic strife persisted for almost two decades, remaining mercifully
confined to France
and the surrounding environs until one day in 1867, quite suddenly, the storms
calmed. The sun rose into a blue sky for what seemed to be the first time in
eons, and the world held its breath. No-one knew what had befallen France and
its people. No-one knew what the other nations had been up to during the time
of isolation. But the race was on to find out.

Great Britain

During the storms, Britain
had become more isolated than ever before. Robbed of its naval strength by the
Consulate’s decrees years earlier, and denied egress into Europe by the Aether
catastrophe, it would have seemed to outsiders that Britain’s dominion had come to an
end. However, that would be to discount the resourcefulness and tenacity that
had for so long characterized the people of Britannia.

Great Britain had managed to use
its navigational heritage to maintain contact with the Indian subcontinent,
braving long and perilous sea journeys to secure a source of wealth via trade
routes with the exotic east. Thousands of Queen Victoria’s
Indian subjects were welcomed into Britain,
bringing the finest minds, skilled labourers and military commanders from the farthest reaches
of the Empire to London.
Eastern food, religion, music and culture became increasingly popular, as the
ruling classes of Britain
embraced new ideas after being so long cut off from the cultural centres of Europe.
The cities swelled with industry, culture and commerce.

Meanwhile, Britain’s
greatest scientists, the elite of the prestigious Royal Society, had never
stopped their efforts to unlock the secrets of the Aether technology gained
from France.
It was whispered that the most radical thinkers of London’s intelligentsia had
taken to distilling Terrestrial Aether with opiates, in order to expand their
minds sufficiently to give them greater insights into the inter-dimensional
secrets. Whether this was successful or not, British scientists certainly made
great strides into Aether technology, and began to finally develop military
devices—Aetheric airships, ocean-going dreadnoughts, and super-charged personal
weaponry foremost among their discoveries.

However, due to France’s
restrictions on foreign military power decades previously, Britain’s army had become a
fragmented organisation. In
order to find a way around the sanctions imposed by the Consulate, the Duke of
Wellington had disbanded the central command of Her Majesty’s Army, handing
control of individual regiments to trusted local commanders. As a result,
regiments fell back upon centuries of history and tradition, becoming
autonomous fighting units answerable only to the Queen, yet sometimes behaving
in the manner of privateers or self-aggrandising guilds whilst fighting for the interests of the
Empire. To keep some semblance of order, the Iron Duke elevated the territorial
Yeomanry—traditionally a ceremonial force—into a permanent fighting force, which
trained in secret to become an elite army. Under the command of the bullish
commander in chief, General Sir Colin Campbell, recently returned from fighting
in India,
the new Royal Elite Yeomanry became a feared strike force. Though primarily
used for domestic defence,
they were just as often called upon to undertake secret missions in the Empire’s
interests, or even to police the more capricious excesses of the great regiments.

Prussia

Suddenly finding itself the greatest continental power still standing,
Prussia set about unifying the remaining German states, cementing bonds that
had been set in place by the well-meaning Consulate of Peace. Seeing no profit
in retaining their independence, Bavaria and Austria joined the Unified
Prussia, and their vast, ponderous standing armies swelled the ranks of King
Frederick’s already unwieldy forces. Of the largest nation-states, only Hungary remained independent, solidifying its
position as the second most powerful state in Europe.

King Frederick himself suffered
a stroke in 1857, so severe that it should have forced his abdication. However,
aided by Aether technology, the Royal surgeons managed to prolong his life,
augmenting the king’s frail body with beautifully-wrought mechanical
prosthetics of brass and gold. Frederick became
increasingly bitter and militant the more his body was changed by subsequent
surgeries, and his ministers faced a constant battle to keep him from sending
his forces sweeping into Hungary
to claim the stubborn state by force. To rein in the king’s excesses, his son—a
liberal and staunch supporter of the Consulate’s ideology—used his political
guile to make Otto von Bismarck prime minister. Von Bismarck had long proved
himself capable of quelling the king’s irrational rages, whilst maintaining
cordial relationships with foreign powers.

Von Bismarck’s first
initiative was to divide the Prussian armies into smaller forces, so that they
could not easily be deployed en masse against Hungary or anyone else. However, he
remained wary of leaving Prussia
defenceless, so he ensured that each
force was sent on constantmanoeuvres on the borders of Prussia, under the control of
regional commanders. This directive kept them ever alert and battle-ready, and
yet ultimately under the control of the hideously bureaucratic ministry at Königsberg. The duty of
furthering Prussia’s
military technology was also given to the regional commands, with military
guilds forming to accomplish their assigned tasks. Prussian regiments,
therefore, tend to be armed and uniformed as dictated by the innovations and
rules of their guild, rather than by the central ministry.

For all of its wealth and might, however, Prussia
was still left comparatively isolated by the Aether catastrophe. To the west of
the country lay a vast wasteland, an irradiated steppe where nothing grows and
nothing can live. At least, nothing natural. Westphalia and Hanover
were abandoned, and beyond them lies what is left of France. To the east, the minor
independent states clung to their sovereignty, engaging in petty squabbles with
each other, and in effect providing a buffer between United Prussia and the old
power of Russia.

With uncertain foes and fickle friends all around, von
Bismarck’s armies set about securing the borders, creating hundreds of miles of
defensive lines, unbreachable by foreign aggression, and from whatever perils
lurked within the Aether storms.

Thursday, 17 October 2013

What the Consulate scientists were working on in the lowest, most secure
levels of the extraterrestrial complex will perhaps never be fully understood.
However, the pinnacle of their work was surely the invention of portal
technology—the ability to transport a living person from one place to another
almost instantaneously, by passing through a portal of pure Terrestrial Aether.
Philosophers posit that the Aether is in fact the building block of all matter
in every dimension, existing simultaneously in all time and space. By passing
through a portal, one effectively folds reality itself, stepping out at the pre-defined
point unharmed. Although the initial test subjects reported strange sensations,
unexpected side-effects, and glimpses of realms beyond the veil, the invention
is celebrated as the future of French dominance over the world. Work commenced
to iron out the problems, and in the spring of 1849, the ‘Port du Aethér’ was constructed, with stations situated all across
France and the Low Countries. The Consulate is jealously protective of
this technology, as the builders of Aetheric portals required access to pure Terrestrial
Aether—the very substance from which France had derived its new-found power.

However, the construction
of portals large and small, and in such vast numbers, had never before been
tested. Most were man-sized portals, designed to send travellers to their destination in single-file.
Others, like the ones in Paris and Calais, were large enough
for steam-engines to pass through. However, when the Port du Aethér was finally brought on-line, disaster ensued. No
longer confined to simply transporting a single person between two points, the
intricate web of portals and inter-dimensional routes caused confluences of raw
Aether and other alien matter to pour into our dimension. The energy of distant
stars, radiation from parallel universes, and sanity-splitting
extra-dimensional beings flooded through the gates, and continued to do so
until all of the energy that powered the Port
du Aethér was expended. Cosmic storms wracked the land, coruscating
energies washed over the skies, and great dimensional fluxes blinked randomly
into existence, wiping town and cities from the map in an instant.

Overnight, the Consulate
was destroyed, along with most of France. The nation that had flirted
with ultimate power became nothing more than an irradiated wasteland,
inaccessible due to the otherworldly fires and clouds of noxious gases that
continued to erupt across the land. The Low Countries did not escape unscathed; huge tracts of
coastline fell into the sea, and the major towns were leveled by gigantic tidal
waves, which flooded the land and killed tens of thousands of people. From the North Sea to the Straits of Gibraltar, the oceans roiled
with chaotic energy, making travel by sea an impossibility in those regions. Western Germany, the Iberian Peninsula,
Northern Italy and Switzerland
also felt the after-shocks of the most horrendous catastrophe in the history of
the world—a catastrophe that threatened to wipe every man, woman and child in Europe from the map.

Despite the calamity
inflicted on the west, the main power of Prussia escaped the worst of the
fallout from ‘La Catástrofe Aethér’,
as it had became known, and King Frederick suddenly found himself the ruler of
the most powerful nation on the continent. Great
Britain, meanwhile, found itself isolated from the rest
of Europe, cut off from the continent by churning,
unnatural seas and violent electrical storms.

Wednesday, 16 October 2013

Though France controlled all commerce in Aetheric goods across Europe, the benefits for all could not be denied, and many common people in Unified Prussia and even Britain reaped the rewards of the new age of invention.
In Prussia, the finest architects embraced Aether-forged building materials and labour-saving industrial machinery, transforming the capital, Königsberg, into a gleaming marvel of towering iron and glass structures, rising almost to the clouds and serviced by passenger airships. In Britain, steam-conveyances zipped along city roads, fuelled by Aetheric carbon. All manner of mundane tasks began to be carried out autonomously by clanking devices of brass and iron, programmed with analogue task disks of Aetheric copper, or logic maps cut from slivers of Aetheric silicon or crystal. Whilst the death of the service industry in Europe signalled the rise of self-made men and the lower-middle-class, in nations such as Great Britain the cultural shift was a step too far, and the poorest people were made poorer still by the lack of manual work on offer.
The tale of hardship was repeated tenfold in Spain and Portugal. With no monarchy and a fractious government controlled by France, the countries quickly fell into misrule. Guerilla fighters took to the hills, fearing another French invasion, and eventually became feared bandits, preying on the very peasants they had once sworn to protect. To the north of France, the Dutch monarchy similarly fled to the East Indies. The Consulate, not wishing to repeat its mistake on the Iberian Peninsula, moved to take control of Holland immediately, setting up a trade alliance with the East Indies to take advantage of the newly strengthened links between those nations.

Over the following two decades, Europe flourished in spite of the animosity and problems. Trade in non-military Aether technology finally reached Russia, the Americas and the Orient, sparking never before seen technological expansion in those far-flung corners of the globe. Meanwhile, France continued its transformation into the centre of Aetheric development on Earth. Entire regions were given over to industry, and countless factory complexes churned out new contraptions, materials and weapons around the clock. Acres-long warehouses are built to store the newly forged wonders, and the smoke from factory furnaces blotted out the sun. Much of the rolling hills, pastoral forests and isolated villages that once characterized France were irrevocably transformed by mile upon mile of landscaped brick and iron concourses, cobbled roads and industrial complexes. The Consulate ruled supreme over this new regime, believing the sacrifice worthwhile in the name of worldwide peace, profit and progress. All the while, their scientists continued to unlock ever more ancient secrets from the strange, subterranean alien city; the existence of which remain the most closely guarded secret in the world.

Tuesday, 15 October 2013

In the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars, peace descended on a troubled Europe for the first time in living memory. It was an age
of reason, of enlightenment, and progress. An age where the ingenuity of
mankind scaled heights previously unimagined. And yet, it was not science or intellect,
nor even conquest that was to change the world. It was the discovery of
something older and far more mysterious than anything humanity could have dreamt;
something that had lain dormant since the dawn of time…

…the Aether.

The discovery of this wondrous,
alien element was heralded as the greatest achievement of the modern age. It
brought unimaginable wealth to those who knew its secrets, and allowed the
greatest minds of the nineteenth century to realise their wildest theories and
create inventions to be marvelled at around the world. And yet the expansion of
industry and prosperity made possible by the Aether proved to be a short-lived
phenomenon; for it was no natural force, to be harnessed by mankind as they saw
fit. With Aetheric experimentation came hidden dangers, both physical and
metaphysical, and dabbling with this unknown force was to cost the world dear.

France, 1815-1830

Following Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo, the Bourbon monarchy was restored, and Charles X
reclaimed the throne of France.
Though France
finally had peace, few were happy that their dream of democracy and freedom
from the yoke of tyranny had finally been quashed. Fewer still were happy that
their ruler was a puppet to the British, with whom they had fought for so many
years. As Charles X introduced ever higher taxes in order to rebuild his
nation, the people suffered, and animosity festered.

In
darkened meeting-houses and taverns across France, a new revolution was
planned. A secret order of wealthy industrialists, scientists, free-thinkers
and haute-bourgeois radicals formed a
covert society, calling themselves the Consulate of Peace. They quickly
garnered the support of the old National Guard, who had been disbanded by King
Charles; yet although they sought a change for France, the Consulate did not want
another Reign of Terror. Instead, they sought to install a new republic based
on reason and liberty. Through enlightenment, they argued, France would not only be restored
to glory, but also lead a new world order.

Led by the
radical politician Adolphe Thiers, and the nephew of Napoleon himself—the
bombastic Louis-Napoleon—the Consulate drew support from a veritable army of
scientists, explorers, philosophers, writers, ex-soldiers and philanthropists. They
began a decade of expansion and exploration, growing ever bolder with each
political and ideological victory. They bought land, factories, mines and
safe-houses across France;
they delved into the history of the nation, recovering lost archaeological
relics that told of the glories of the past, restoring national pride and
gathering more supporters wherever they went.

The Consulate’s Discovery

It was during such an
archaeological expedition near the Jura mountain range that an amazing
discovery was made. Ancient caves long-overlooked were accidentally opened up,
and the Consulate explorers followed the strange, labyrinthine tunnels deeper
and deeper beneath the mountains, until finally they came across a marvel to
science. Lying dormant for millennia, a sprawling complex of unknown origin
gave up its secrets to the explorers. Who had built the cyclopean palace, none
could say. Yet at the presence of living men, glowing lights of unknown design
flickered to life, and consoles of illuminated glyphs activated at a touch. The
Consulate discovered a veritable city devoted to some alien science; a buried
repository of technology and knowledge, its endless corridors and chambers
filled with strange devices and libraries… and weapons.

The
seeds of unrest within the ranks of the Consulate were sown. Even a cursory
exploration of the devices on display convinced Louis-Napoleon—by then Napoleon
III—that they could retake France
by force, even with the meagre numbers of National Guard at their command. Yet
Thiers had his way, and the Consulate spent many months in their new
headquarters, deciphering ancient scrolls, learning to use bizarre logic
engines, and making scientific discoveries that would have made da Vinci weep.
The greatest of these was a new element, found in abundance at the glowing core
of the monolithic facility. It seemed to be the source of power for the entire
complex, and everything in proximity to the roiling, crystalline material
seemed to warp and twist. They called this element ‘Terrestrial Aether’, and
learned much of its practical application.

The complex was
greater than the fabled library of Alexandria,
and soon the Consulate had learned enough to put some of their new inventions
into practice. Giving new instructions to their factories across France,
the fires of industry burned day and night. With the application of Terrestrial
Aether, metal could be made both lighter and stronger, any number of devices
could be powered without coal or oil, medicines of previously unimagined
potency could be concocted, and mankind could at last take to the skies in
small airships, the likes of which had never before been seen. Most interesting
to young Louis-Napoleon, however, was the use of Terrestrial Aether in machines
of war. He commandeered a munitions factory in the south of France, and within a week had them
producing Aether-powered rifles, gigantic cannons that spat beams of ferocious
energy, and armoured, horseless carriages impervious to musket shot. He knew
that, for all of their ideological superiority, the Consulate needed his Aether
weapons to rid France
of the monarchy, and keep her enemies across the Channel at bay.

Revolution and Conquest

When the Consulate of Peace finally
revealed their intentions in the summer of 1829, all of France was in awe at their power
and invention. Napoleon III, like his illustrious uncle before him, marched
from town to town, gathering old soldiers and idealistic volunteers to his
banner, and arming them with Aether weaponry. At first, the monarchy and their
royalist army resisted the will of the people, but that soon changed when Louis-Napoleon
unleashed his super-weapon upon the Palais
Bourbon, sundering it with a shot launched from over a mile away, and
reducing it to ash. His army then marched into Paris in a display of power, and as the
people cheered and shouted for a new Emperor Napoleon, Charles X relinquished
the throne.

Dismayed
that the Consulate of Peace had resorted to military might, Adolphe Thiers
nonetheless continued his plan. He swiftly set his supporters in place as a new
National Assembly, and began dismantling the old monarchy and last vestiges of
Catholic power. The cathedral of Notre Dame was rededicated as the home of the
Cult of Reason. Charles X was imprisoned for his crimes against the people, but
his son, Louis Antoine, Duke of Angoulême, was exiled to Britain, under orders to take with
him messages from the Consulate. Despite their newfound military might, the
Consulate was still determined to establish an era of worldwide peace—albeit
one under their yoke.

Though
he secretly harboured ambitions of conquest, Louis-Napoleon did as he was bid.
He set about installing his Aether-cannons around France’s borders, as a dire warning
to any nation who would attempt to thwart the Consulate’s power.

And
so, under the shadow of unprecedented military threat, Europe’s nations one by
one fell into line, signing new agreements of peace and trade with France,
and with each other. Armies of all the great nations were curtailed, regiments
disbanded at France’s
behest, and even the mighty Royal Navy was halved in size. The Consulate
continued to experiment with Terrestrial Aether, reverse-engineering almost
every common technology and material in a bid to become the most advanced nation
on the planet. Slowly, derivative Aether-based technologies began to find their
way into the hands of other nations, first illicitly, and then through open
trade—although the secrets of the Aether-weapons remained a closely guarded
secret. France’s
immediate neighbours felt the economic squeeze most keenly and, fearing the
return of the French Empire, dared do nothing to anger Napoleon III. The rulers
of Spain and Portugal abdicated and fled into self-imposed
exile in South America, leaving France
no option but to assume rulership of a dispossessed people, hostile to their
every move. Prussia, a proud
and militaristic state under King Frederick William IV, began to plot the
downfall of France,
coveting their remarkable weapons for themselves. Great
Britain, meanwhile, concentrated on unlocking the secrets
of Aether for itself, resentful of the restrictions that France placed on international
commerce and its long-standing naval dominance.

Monday, 14 October 2013

Over the last few months I've been musing over and planning out the background story and game world for my ongoing project. To compliment the miniatures that I have sculpted I wanted to create a new setting, separate from traditional Victorian Scifi and still different from the newer and established steampunk settings. So with the the concepts and story all set out I decided to approach a professional writer to coalesce my imaginings into a solid backstory. Mark Latham has done a marvellous job for translating my ideas, approaching the subject matter with great enthusiasm. I'll be publishing the backstory over the next week starting tomorrow. I hope everyone that decides to follow it enjoys what we have created. The next stage is the continued development and playtesting of the Steam and Aether ruleset, if you want to stay abreast of what I've got coming then please follow the blog and I'll keep you all updated.

Many thanks

Andrew May

Mark Latham is an author, editor and games designer from Staffordshire, UK. Formerly the editor of White Dwarf magazine and head of Warhammer 40,000 for Games Workshop, Mark is now a writer of short stories, books and tabletop games, such as Legends of the Old West, and Waterloo.

Mark has been ensconced in the worlds of science fiction and fantasy for many years, but his real passion is for history. Mark has a deep obsession with the past, especially the nineteenth century; an affliction that can only be salved by writing on the subject for far longer than can be considered healthy.

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

I actually had these commissioned a while back but they ended up being finalised a little later on. Des did a fantastic job of translating my figures into images, I hope you find them inspiring, they'll be popping up again in the future.

Thursday, 22 August 2013

I'm happy to say that the first batch of master castings for my Kickstarter miniatures arrived today. It includes all of the standard troops and 75% of the head sprues. Griffin moulds did a fantastic job as ever so I'll be sending back some masters to make production moulds from while I get the greatcoated figures finished.

Tuesday, 20 August 2013

Hello everyone and welcome to my project development blog. Many of you will have come here via the page for my first Kickstarter project, the project is funded and working toward fulfilment but head over and take a look if you're not familiar with my miniatures. The miniatures that are now half way to production are the first public step towards creating my own gaming system set in an alternate history of my imagining, I'll be using this blog to document the goings on that will bring that world to life. Please follow the blog and check back often if you're interested, I'll try to update at least a couple of times a week.

That's all for my first post apart from to thank Dave Needham aka: Zhu for designing the "Steam and Aether" logo you can see at the top of the page, he was also responsible for designing the Meridian Miniatures logos for me. Whilst I'm just one person carrying out this project it's great to be able to call upon other talented folk in the gaming community to contribute towards realising my project.